Page 111 of Red's Peril: Part 1

“And what about you? Are you married?”

She looks up with a start. “Me? No, I have not.”

“Partner?” I push, thinking someone must have picked up on what I’d missed out on.

Biting her lips, her eyes look to the side, before coming back. “I’ve had no time for relationships.”

No time? What the fuck has she been up to? I open my mouth to pry when we’re interrupted.

“Cher? I’ve been looking for you. You ready to go?”

She looks up at the man who’s spoken and smiles. “I’ll be ready in two minutes.”

He nods. “I’ll wait outside for you. Could do with a smoke.”

She wiggles her fingers as he walks off.

“No partner, huh?” I ask, gritting my teeth, this time for a truthful answer.

“Jed? No.” She seems surprised that I asked. “He’s part of the security around here, lives in the same building where I’ve got an apartment. As we work the same shifts, he gives me lifts.” She shrugs. “It saves money and means I don’t have to drive home alone.”

On the face of it that’s wise. She’s an attractive woman. But some possessive feeling inside me doesn’t like it.

“I’ll take you home if you want. I’ve only got the bike.” I wink. “But that never bothered you before.” As I say it, I realise what a big deal that is. No woman but her has ever ridden behind me.

“No.” The way she says it suggests I’d be wasting breath if I tried to persuade her. She drains her drink and stands. “It’s been nice catching up with you, Red. I suspect I’ll be seeing you around.”

I’ve got no hold on her. I can’t prevent her leaving or call her back when she stands and walks away. And proving I never learn, I realise, fuck it, I didn’t even get her number.

As I watch her wind her way around tables, customers, and slot machines, I narrow my eyes. That’s not the last I’ll be seeing of her. I’ll make sure of that.

There’s always tomorrow,I remind myself. And I’ll have time to prepare and not be taken off balance.

I’m not stupid, there are things she’s not telling me. She barely said anything about her life.

And what better place to get those secrets out of her than in my bed?

As for me, another fuck might prove my memory false and there’s nothing to go back for. Maybe having her one more time would mean I could finally move on.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Iride back to the clubhouse torn between pumping my fist in the air and feeling my soul sink in regret.

I’ve seen and spoken to Cheryl. Something I’ve wanted to do for literally years. I don’t know what I expected but seeing her was anti-climactic. It’s not that I expected her to fall into my arms and declare undying love while declaring leaving me had been the worst mistake of her life, but I’d expected something.

Initially she’d seemed pleased to see me. But all those little glances and half-smiles as she was dealing my cards disappeared when she got sight of the cut on my back. Hadn’t she guessed from the patches on the front? It seems not, but if she hasn’t been involved in our lifestyle, maybe she’d just thought it was a fashion statement, the word Prez added as an embellishment to flatter my ego. Whatever, when she found out, it certainly hadn’t impressed her.

I scoff at myself for ever thinking she could have made a great old lady. Hell, I’d had a lucky escape the day she’d walked away. If she’s got such a downer on MCs, how long would it have been before she’d convinced me to sell my bike? If I’d have met Wraith, her influence might have ensured we’d never have become friends.

What would I have been? A fucking mechanic slogging my guts out for the man day after day.

She’s got no idea of my club or what it means.

Having ridden on autopilot, I find myself at the clubhouse while thoughts are still whirling around my head. I back into my parking spot and turn off my engine, then rest my hands on the gas tank for a moment.

I guess this is it. My club’s my family, my bike my old lady. I’d made my mind up on that when what I thought I could have had with Clare had disappeared like a breath of air. I’d been hanging onto a dream, something I know I’ll never have.

All this time I’ve wondered about Cheryl, built her up in my head to be something more. If I misread her that badly, it doesn’t say much about my instincts or at least when it comes to women.

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